


connections

by jamesmadibabe



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Crying, Cuddling, Cute, Depression, Drug Abuse, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Washingdad, aaron just want the best, burr and alex are really close, child star angst, combined the celeb au with college au for maximum clout, herc and laf are overprotective, hinted hamburr, i just did some basic editing it's still awful but not as much so., mentioned angelica/dolley/maria c/maria r/adrienne, mentioned laurettigan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12644955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesmadibabe/pseuds/jamesmadibabe
Summary: John's eyes meet Alex's, and his heart stops beating for a moment, but then John starts crying uncontrollably. Alex, for a moment, is fascinated. In the movies, John either is shown slowly breaking down, or with a single tear running down his cheek as he sets his jaw. He's never seen John like this, broken sobs coming out of his throat, big, fat, wet tears rolling down his face, his face red. He looks so fucking broken, and it's more real and amazing that anything even the best actor could do.or, Alex is a former childhood star and his old costar shows up at his door at three in the morning.





	connections

**Author's Note:**

> this is the longest fucking thing and i still want to write more

 

 

↪we're child stars on the same show, your career skyrocketed any mine didn't. years later you're at my doorstep at 3 am.

Alexander Hamilton-Washington's life is supposed to be some huge success story.

Yeah, he's an orphan, his father deserted him, he watched his mother die, his home island, which was once a beautiful place was destroyed by a hurricane (Not to mention shitty colonizers and eventual gentrification), after his cousin committed suicide he bounced from foster home to foster home and all that shit - he could write an entire novel on how God or the Universe or whatever the fuck you believe in majorly screwed him over. (Believe him, he's petty, bitter, and determined enough to do such a thing.) And then, on his seventh birthday, he's adopted by some huge Hollywood couple and everyone wants a piece of little Alex, the feisty boy with the quick wit who's been through so much, the poor thing. He's shoved into some shitty but nostalgic Disney show when he's only eight, as the lovable sidekick to John Laurens' character and caught in the middle of a love triangle with Elizabeth Schuyler. And they become this trio of sorts, and the media's fucking obsessed with them.

And everything's good, don't get him wrong, he looks back on this part of his childhood mostly fondly. (Except for being only thirteen and finding porn some college kid made of him and Eliza.) You see, as most people do, Alex gets older, as in, which cute. The charm wears off seemingly overnight. Him snapping at reporters and speaking over everyone is no longer adorable, just annoying. But Alex is too damn ambitious for his own good and starts taking performance enhancing drugs so he can handle a bigger workload and then moves on to party drugs to relieve stress. Like many child stars, he has a massive breakdown, resulting in the end of many relationships and, ultimately, his career.

(A couple years later he's caught giving Thomas Jeffershit a blowjob backstage at the VMAs, but we don't talk about that. Ever.)

This is seemingly where his luck ends. Sure, the Washingtons never quite give up on him, but the only coverage he's getting is negative. He doesn't get a Britney Spears or Lindsey Lohan style comeback - after the controversy gets old people forget about him. He hasn't talked to his old costars in years except for Eliza, who is too kind for her own good.

It's odd, to be on top of the world and one moment and have almost everything yanked away from you, but like someone who's had obstacle after obstacle thrown at him, he adjusts. He graduates high school at almost the top of his class and gets into Columbia University, majoring in Political Science. Alex settles into some sort of routine quickly - immerse himself in his schoolwork, annoy his roommate (Aaron Burr), fight some asshole in his class, fuck some random person on the day Burr's out on a date with his girlfriend, cry, and go out to eat with Burr every Sunday. (Burr pays his way every time even though he insists he loathes Alex.)

Sure, it isn’t the best way to live and certainly not how Alex imagined his life ending up, but he's trying his best to climb to the top, and he enjoys his time with Burr, who he's pretty sure he would be dating by now if he wasn't so deeply devoted to Theodosia. but Alex isn't that bitter about it.

"I can't fucking believe you've never seen The Jungle Book, Burr-ito. Your childhood must have been absolute shit." it's Sunday, which normally means they go out to eat, but Theodosia's upset with him and he's too sad to go out. So they ordered takeout, and by they, Burr was too nervous to call so Alex did and Burr paid.

Burr doesn't respond for a moment, and Alex doesn't really think anything of it because he's the king of dramatic pauses. It's a shame that Burr took up law instead of the Arts. He's made for the big screen. Alex feels kind of bad when Burr says in a tiny voice, "Yeah. It was shit."

Cooing, Alex puckers his lips, (he rather enjoys the disgusted look on Burr's face) smacking a huge kiss on his roommate's cheek. "Aww, my poor baby boy! Next week we can watch all the iconic movies you missed as a child and I'll even buy the food."

Snorting, Burr replies, "Fat chance. You're poor as fuck, Alexander."

Alex gasps, putting his hand to his chest in fake shock. "Aaron Burr Junior, I'll have you know my very own father just starred in a hit movie and my mother has her own television show." Granted, the movie was something only sad women in their forties would see and his mother's cooking show would never be as good as Martha & Snoop's Potluck Dinner Party, but it doesn’t matter. They're successful. "Just admit you like to baby me."

Aaron just rolls his eyes - he probably knows better than to reply to that last part.  He leans in, his lips so close to Alex's ear that when he speaks they brush against them, "I know you fucked Kitty Livingston on the couch then flipped the cushions so I wouldn't see your cum stains."

Eyes popping out, Alex laughs into Burr's shoulder. "Did you enjoy sticking your nose into my cum? Just ask, daddy, and you can see it up close and personal."

"You're fucked, Hamilton."

 

~~~

 

They fall asleep on the couch, Alex's head resting on Burr's lap, Burr's hand tangled into Alex's hair. Burr's laptop has fallen on the floor, and it still plays the end of Atlantis, the third movie they put on. It's a domestic scene for two people who are the complete opposite of domestic.

There's a series of knocks on the door, and Alex jerks up, not even disturbing Burr's sleep. Alex is a light sleeper - he had to be when he was in cruel foster homes. Hypervigilance has never gone away. He checks the clock on the wall - it's three in the morning. Groaning, he hops off of the couch, stretching. After putting Burr's laptop somewhere safe, he peers out of the peephole.

What.

The.

Fuck.

With shaking hands, he rushes to unlock the door and swings it open. He tries to say something, but for once in his life, he's speechless.

His old co-star and former friend, John Laurens, is standing at the door. He looks so much different than the last time he saw him, and Alex has only seen him in magazines and on Instagram. (He avoids his movies like the plague) None of the pictures truly capture his essence. John is shorter than he expected but still taller than Alex. Most of the magazines airbrush his freckles, which is a shame because they're littered all over his body, like little stars that form constellations that make the universe of John Laurens. Most of the time, they must make him put on a shit ton of gel because his hair is much curlier and fluffier than what he's seen on… well, anything. His eyes are much bigger than Alex thought, and the flecks of green swimming around his pupils are intoxicating.

John's eyes meet Alex's, and his heart stops beating for a moment, but then John starts crying uncontrollably. Alex, for a moment, is fascinated. In the movies, John either is shown slowly breaking down, or with a single tear running down his cheek as he sets his jaw. He's never seen John like this, broken sobs coming out of his throat, big, fat, wet tears rolling down his face, his face red. He looks so fucking broken, and it's more real and amazing that anything the best actor could come up with.

Alex freezes for a moment, then his instincts take over. He grabs John by the arm, pushing him in, and slams the door closed behind him, fingers fumbling for the lock. He ushers John over to the couch, careful not to disturb Aaron, and takes a seat on the floor.

John curls into a ball on the couch, sobbing, and Alex just watches, transfixed. He wants to say something, but he's not good at comforting and he doesn't want to fuck up their already almost nonexistent relationship. After a couple of minutes, John collapses into Burr's lap, burying his face in his stomach.

This is certainly one of the oddest things Alex has ever seen, and he's seen a fucking lot. He sits there, motionless, as John lets out a final large heave and falls asleep. Alex stares at the sight for at least an hour before deciding that he should probably go to sleep. He considers going to crashing in the bed, but decides against it, as Burr might be really confused waking up to a superstar on his lap with Alex nowhere to be found. He searches for something to cover himself - he decides to put on one of Burr's sweatshirts, and then curls into a ball and Aaron's feet.

This is going to make for one weird morning.

 

~~~

 

Alex wakes up with a crick in his neck and a heavy blanket on his back. He's confused as to why he's on the floor - he assumes he just had some really kinky and rough sex the night before, but then his memories flood back into his head. Alex can't believe this is real - John puts on such an air of confidence in public and seeing him so real and vulnerable changes his whole view of him.

"God, it took you forever to wake up."

Alex lets out a surprised yelp, struggling to his feet. John sits on the kitchen counter eating some of that shitty yogurt that Burr loves, legs swinging absentmindedly. He looks almost godly in the glow of the light - his hair is golden, shoved into a ponytail, and his chest is gloriously bare, and he wears a pair of Burr's shorts.

Digging for his phone, Alex says, "You know, Burr doesn't share that yogurt with just anyone. I think he likes you." He'd thought that Burr would freak out when he discovered an A-list actor on his pants, but he probably handled the situation well enough before he headed off to his morning classes. For a bald thing teeming with anxiety, he handled unfamiliar situations well. Admittedly, much better than he could.

John hums. "He says he doesn't like me. My last movie was garbage, apparently."

"He's like that with everyone." Alex hasn't seen John's latest movie, (out of principle, of course) but, lately Tumblr has been abuzz about it. The movie is set in a prison and explores prisoners' hardships and the unfair treatment they have to go through. It's kind of annoying, seeing such gushing (Wow, that sounds wrong. Maybe glowing?) reviews and being too much of a wimp to see the face of his old best friend.

"Speaking of Burr," John starts, hopping off of the counter and making his way to the couch, throwing the yogurt container in the trashcan on the way there. "He was, like, dissociating really hard, so you should check on him later."

Alex nodded, storing that information away for later. Though Burr was good at solving problems, he would also dissociate himself from reality. It calms him down, but for a long period of time, it can be dangerous. Burr's told him about this many times, and he's researched how to help someone who's dissociating just in case something bad happens.

Alex watches John. He's hunched over on the couch, flicking through channels, skipping past an episode of The Ellen Show that he's being interviewed on nonchalantly. The whole thing is just so odd, not seeing his best friend for years and ignoring anything that reminded him of him; then having him in his house, eating his roommate's yogurt and watching his tv. It's nothing that Alex could ever dream of, nothing that he thought would ever happen after his meltdown. He isn't sure if he wants it to stop, isn't sure what he did to deserve this chance.

"So, um," Alex starts. He has John's attention, but he isn't sure what he wants to say. His dark brown eyes make Alex choke on his own spit. "Why, uh, are you here?" It sounds harsh, but Alex is a harsh person by nature and he really can't think of any other way to put it.

He immediately knows he's fucked up when all of the colors drain out of John's face and the hand holding the remote shakes. "It's a long story," John says, running his fingers through his hair. "I'll tell you... later, I promise." There's a long pause where Alex wants to further question him but also doesn't want to do anything to upset him, and then John suddenly says, "Don't you have classes to go to?"

Right. Class. The whole thing seems so surreal that he's completely forgotten about the outside world, that things exist other than him, John, and Burr's gross yogurt. Alex hops to his feet, checking the time on his phone again. He wouldn't have time to shower or change if he wanted to make it on time, so he pulls on a pair of jeans over his boxers, making sure there wasn't too much drool on Burr's sweatshirt and putting his greasy hair into a sloppy bun. He's halfway out the door when he calls out, "John-?"

He waves the remote at him. "I'll be fine."

 

~~~

 

 

Alex returns home looking like he's been run over by a truck. His slouch even more noticeable, almost forming a hunch. His eyes are bloodshot, the dark circles under them more prominent. His whole body is twitching and everything hurts, but he almost doesn't feel it. Everything is foreign, and he feels weightless as if he's watching everything from above and he's far away from his body. Even though he's completely exhausted, his movements are quick and erratic. Brown eyes widen when he notices John still on the couch, curled up on a blanket. "Why are you up? It's almost five in the morning?"

Alex winces, because the face he's so used to seeing laughing and crying twists into the nastiest expression he's ever seen, and he has no idea what he did wrong. "Why am I still up?" With every word, John's voice gets louder and his face redder. Alex's expression hardens, eyes scanning for any trace of his friend. He's heard from a couple tabloids that John has a bit of an anger problem, but never quite bought into it. How many other far-fetched rumors he'd heard were actually true? "Why the fuck did you just get here?"

Straightening his back, he marches over to John. "What the hell are you suddenly so angry for?" John used to be his best friend, one of the only people he felt comfortable talking to when things were going on in his life. He lets him into his house with minimal questions after years with minimal questions. He's being nice which is that last word anyone would use to describe him. And John has the fucking nerve to shout at him in his apartment while sitting on the couch he brought with his own money! (Well, technically, Burr brought the couch, but it has his cum stains, which practically makes it his.)

"Fuck you, man!" John hops to his feet, glaring at Alex, who normally isn't the type to back away from a fight, but seeing his best friend angry at him like this really makes him feel... something. "You - Y-you stay out all night doing God knows what and I'm here, sleepless, worried about you, and you come in here, all casual, looking like you just ran into the sun and went into a meth binge! Did you even think-"

Alex blinks, hard, slouching again. He... definitely wasn't expecting that. He'd assumed that Burr would explain to John where he normally was, but he must have still been absorbed in his fight with Theodosia that he completely forgot. "I - dude -" He has no idea what to say. Did John really care enough to stay up all night for him?

"I'm sorry," John mumbles. "For yelling, I mean."

Alex's lips curl into a smile - ever since they were young, he couldn't stay angry at John for too long. He drops his bag by the door, plopping on the couch next to John, tucking himself under the blanket. "Aw, John-y-boy, you're worried about me, aren't you? My poor baby boy, he-"

"Fuck off, Hamilton."

John rolls his eyes, motioning for Alex to sit next to him, and when he does, he slings his arm around him. Alex relaxes, teeth slowly unclenching and muscles loosening. He buries his face in John's chest, taking in his scent - he recognizes Burr's ridiculously expensive soap. What does John normally smell like? Young John's natural smell of dirt and grass was always worn down by cologne, and if Alex strained his nose enough he could almost smell it. "John, can I ask you a question?"

"Only if I get to ask you one first," John says, voice raspy. It takes a moment for it to connect that he's so tired because he's been waiting up for him, and, sure, he feels a little guilty, but it feels a strange sense of delight knowing that he actually cared about him.

"Shoot."

John twists so he can look directly at him, hazel eyes half-lidded. God, even sleep deprived John Laurens looks absolutely fucking godly. "Why did it take you so long to get home? Are you in trouble or some shit?"

"No," Alex responds, relieved it wasn't a probing question, but also kind of disappointed. "After I finished my classes, I had some projects to work on, then a little extra credit, and some studying. I also did a shit ton of internship apps - it's difficult because they normally don't accept ex-drug addicts, no matter how good their fucking grades are. And the ones who want me only want it for the clout, you know? It's frustrating as shit."

There's a long, thoughtful pause, and for a moment Alex thinks that John's fallen asleep, but then he clears his throat loudly. "Do you that often? Stay out late because of academic shit, I mean."

"Well, yeah," Alex says suspiciously because it's beginning to sound like one of those lectures Burr gives him when his head is particularly far up his ass, and, God, he doesn't need any more of those. Quickly, before John can question him further, he asks, "So why are you here, really?"

Alex could tell by the way John reacted earlier it's a touchy subject for him, but Alex has to know. Because all he wants to do when he sees John crying or staring off into the distance is help him, but how can he help when he has no idea what the problem is?"

"It's complicated," John mutters, not meeting Alex's gaze. "Lately I've just been so fucking... tired. I don't have any interest in anything, just fuck around and waste time. I used to love acting, like, I literally used to get off on all of the attention and praise, but I have to act a certain way around people and I have no idea who to trust. Everything is so exhausting, man. And I felt so damn good when I cut my dad off, but a couple days ago I heard back from Mary Eleanor and she's fucking miserable in that hellhole. When I left, I didn't think of anyone else's wellbeing and I feel so goddamn selfish. I... needed a little break." John struggles to suck in a deep breath, eyes shining with tears. "And it's just, like - why am I whining? I'm this rich bitch with an army of fans who's never had to struggle with anything in my life."

It hurts. It hurts so much, and he knows how he feels. Teen Alex, feeling isolated, scared, and most of all, just tired. And Alex is eternally glad that John's reached out for help - before it gets as drastic as being in a drug-induced coma for three days. "Oh, John - your feelings aren't any less valid because of your situation. These types of things can happen to anyone." There's a pause, but not awkward, and Alex says what's been on his mind for a long time. "But why me?"

"What do you mean, 'why you?'" John asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"Well, we haven't talked since the... incident." Is John just taking advantage of his leftover guilt for what he did? Is he lying and truly did something that resulted in him losing all of his friends? Surely he isn't the best person to go for advice and comfort - he's emotionally constipated and always five seconds away from relapse.

John gives him another baffled look. "Well, we're still best friends, and you mean a lot to me."

"But, John, I'm a casually self-destructive piece of shit," Alex chokes out, heart stuck in his throat. God, hearing he means a lot to John means the world to him, but what if it's all wrong? What if Alex is dead somewhere, body full of crack, spending his dying moments hallucinating about the person he wishes cared about him?

John moves quick, turning off the tv and facing Alex. He uses one, long, freckled finger to tip Alex's head up, and for a moment he thinks he's about to kiss him. "Don't sell yourself short. You let me into your house without even questioning it and have listened to all of my dumb problems."

Alex blushes. His skin heats up wherever he touches him, sending sparks flying through his body. God, he needs to get laid. "I don't - but we haven't talked in years."

"That's the thing. I have plenty of other friends, but it's different with you. Dude, you got out. You're almost a normal person, like, more raw, you know? And I had a lot of good times with you when I younger, so, I guess, it's kind of the nostalgia. Man, I missed your ass."

It takes Alex a moment to realize John misses him, and not his flat as fuck ass. He laughs, despite how serious their conversation is. "If you missed me so much, then why didn't you call me?"

"The phone works both ways, you know," John replies, rolling his eyes. "And I figured you didn't want to talk to me, like maybe I upset some way? I was kind of worried you'd just turn me down when I came here. You can give Jefferson a blowjob in front of a thousand people and while over a million watched on tv but you can't fucking say hi?"

"First of all, that was a huge mistake and we never mention that unless Jeffershit wants to return the favor." Alex mostly regrets that night. He was drunk, high, and angry, on top of having naturally terrible judgment in general. Jefferson's dick looked great in those tight-ass pants and he was so fucking oily preparing for his performance. He'd known that Bitcherson had a shit ton of internalized homophobia and was hopelessly in love with James Madison, but Alex thinks with his cock. "Secondly, did you really think I was mad at you?"

"Well, duh, you wouldn't have just stopped talking to me for no reason. I must have done something."

"No, no, nothing like that," Alex stutters, gesturing wildly. Guilt burns in his chest. "I did something. After the, uh... drugs I felt bad and thought none of you wanted to hang out with me. It could've hurt your image and-"

"Dude, what the fuck?" John squeaks. "Sixteen year old me was kind of an asshole but I'd never do you like that. You're my friend, you know? Through thick and thin and all that good shit. I might've been able to help you out. When Eliza told me you didn't want to talk to me I thought you hated me, not that you had like, a bunch, of repressed guilt and-"

"I'm so sorry, man, I'm just shit at communicating-"

"I can tell."

He deserves that. "The whole time I swear I wanted to talk to you. I just.. you were so great, and, well, important, you know? You had so much ahead of you, and I'd already completely fucked up and everything I do seems wrong, and God I didn't want to accidentally fuck your shit up and I don't want to be your problem or the-"

John suddenly grabs a hold of Alex's hand, rubbing his knee with the other. And it's weird, cause since the day he was born, his mind's always been abuzz, thoughts clamoring around in his head, each begging for attention, fighting for dominance, but the moment John's makes contact with his every tick, every worry, every regret immediately disappears. And it's not the suspicious silence, the type that makes his spine tingle, but, it's actually peace. "You are not a problem, Alex. I choose my own path, and I make my own decisions. And I've decided to have you in my life, and I love every minute I've spent with you since I was a little kid. Even when you were yelling at me."

And everything's going fine until John settles his bright eyes on him, brows creased and biting his lips. And, yeah, Alex is horny as shit, but it makes him want to cry at the same time. As soon as the first tear rolls down his face, John's wrapping his strong arms around him.

 

~~~

 

Alex wakes up feeling as if he's being watched. Immediately, he sits upright, searching for something that can be used as a weapon, but relaxes when he sees Aaron leaning against the wall. He's wearing a sweatshirt (Tuesdays are the day when he gives his body a rest and doesn't wear his binder.) and holding a mug. "Were you jerking off over my beautiful sleeping form? You know, Aaron-"

His roommate lets out a loud sigh, handing him the mug and pulling a cinnamon bun out of his pocket. Alex's eyes light up, and he quickly scarfs down the cinnamon and takes a sip of the murky brown liquid, only to twist his face when he realizes it isn't what he thought it was. "This isn't coffee, the fuck?"

"It's tea, honey."

"Your pretentious hipster ass is really trying to kill me," Alex grunts, crossing his arms. Other than his disgusting yogurt, Burr also likes wheat pancakes, tasteless protein bars, soup that gives him diarrhea, and succulents. "You know, you always try to push your lifestyle on me, but I've never forced you to try..." Shit, what was his lifestyle? Does he even have one? "Cocaine and wildly fucking people."

It's sad that's the only thing he can come up with at the moment.

"Firstly, you don't do coke anymore. If you did, your body would be even more fucked up than it already is. Also, sex-positivity and all that shit but you really should think about the reason you constantly seek sexual validation from strangers." Alex throws his head back and lets out the loudest groan his throat will allow. Aaron considers himself the most responsible person in the world, and it's his duty to 'fix' Alex. It's super annoying. "Whatever, Allie. Just make sure you and John are out this afternoon, please."

"You got a fuck appointment with the ol' girlfriend?" Normally Aaron goes over to Theodosia's dorm at NYU, but her roommate has four girlfriends and whenever they have date nights they take up the whole room. He briefly considers crashing their party. He's always had a crush on Angelica, (Who just happens to be Eliza's older sister, and, other than being a lesbian, she also hates his guts) but going over there is an open invitation to get your ass kicked and he doesn't have a death wish. (At least, not at the moment.)

Burr chooses not to respond. Alex takes that as a yes. "So, uh..." He actually looks uncomfortable, which immediately makes Alex feel uneasy. Burr normally would never show something is getting to him, no matter how much it's affecting him. When Burr's actually showing emotion, all hell breaks loose. "So what's going on with you and John?"

Alex raises his eyebrows curiously, not sure where this is going. "He's been going through a rough time and he needed a little time away from the drama. I think we're becoming friends again." Aaron bites his lip, making Alex feel wearier. "What? Worried I'm holding him ransom or something?"

"I mean, but, like friends?" Aaron puts extra emphasis on the last word, cocking (Ha. Cock.) his head to the side. "You fell asleep holding each other, and, no offense  I don't know much but both of you are kind of in a weird spot right now and - "

"Oh my God, you think I want to fuck John! I'm not some predator, feeding on him when he's week, the fuck?" Alex squeaks, hopping to his feet. The crumbs rolling off of the sweatshirt he's been wearing for a couple of days makes him look significantly less intimidating, which makes him even angrier. "I'm capable of being friends with people without wanting them to raw me, you know. I can't believe-"

He stops when he sees the look on Aaron's face because no matter how much the other pretends to hate him and gets on his nerves with his nerves with his shitty aesthetic, Alex is one of the most important people in his life. No matter how many mistakes he makes, he'll always feel comfortable enough to come back to him. "Alex, I... trust... you to... I - please don't rush into anything."

Alex breathes slowly through his nose, trying to calm himself down. It's so stupid because no matter how hard he works to improve himself as that kid who'll suck dick for drugs. (That incident is unrelated to the Jeffershit situation, by the way.) Even the people who believe in him the most still think of him as that way. Aaron has a class soon. They both do. But he wants to deck him in the face and cry into his chest at the same time. God, Aaron is soft. "John told me you weren't doing well yesterday morning," Alex murmurs, reaching out for Burr's hand. Burr's hands are bigger than Alex's. It makes him feel safe, protected. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

He knows things are okay because Burr goes back to trying to suppress his smile. Burr presses a small kiss on Alex's head that lasts a little longer than it normally does and then strides out the door.

 

~~~

 

It isn't until later Alex realizes he wants to fuck John Laurens. It's a perfectly normal scene, neither of them is doing anything particularly sexy - John's idly scrolling through his phone and Alex is cramming for a test he has next week. Suddenly, he gets the primal urge to hop on top of John and ride him until he brakes him.

Normally, it isn't a big deal. Alex has a high libido, and he gets the primal urge to fuck almost everyone once in a while. It's just that John is Alex's oldest friend, and that's a bond you can't mess with, you know? And John's in his house for comfort, to be away from pressure, and John is trusting him with so many things and revealing so much about him. And Alex feels like he's tainting the relationship, turning it into something it isn't supposed to be.

Also, he hates admitting he's wrong.

 

~~~

 

"Burr's got a girlfriend?"

"Yeah. They both have their heads up their asses. They're perfect for each other."

Alex appreciates John for not immediately informing him that he has his head up his ass. "Holy shit dude. I thought you and Burr were like, a thing."

"Bitch, in my dreams." Alex doesn't have much against Theodosia. A mature person would recognize that things just weren't meant to be, and just be happy that Aaron has someone who he cares about and makes him feel special. However, Alex isn't that mature person. Of course, he's kind of jealous that Theodosia gets to live with the actual goddess that is Angelica Schuyler.

John smirks, whipping out his phone and firing off his text. "I just got us a ride. Let's bounce."

"A ride to where? Aren't you going to, like, put on a disguise or something?" According to the gossip, no one else really knew where John was, and he hadn't left the house since he first arrived on Sunday.

"I know people. They're going to be mad as fuck at me, but they're a good time. I miss them." John grabs Alex's hand (He wants to puke when electricity climbs up his spine, and not in the normal I'm glad my friend likes me and is casually showing me affection way." They run down the stairs and burst outside. The cold air almost knocks out his lungs, and the sound of traffic is deafening. The two aren't in plain sight long enough for anyone to really spot them - John pushes Alex into a sleek black car and slams the door behind him.

"Jay-bird, what the hell."

Oh shit. Alex recognizes that voice. He squints in the front to get a better look, but he already knows his suspicions are true;. Hercules Mulligan and Gil Lafayette are in the front, engagement rings shining in the moonlight. Hercules is as big and buff as Alex imagines him, and Lafayette somehow oozes sex more appeal in person. Hercules is a designer, and Lafayette, his favorite model and muse, but the two own a nighttime talk show. They're funny as shit, woke, and Tumblr loves to gush over their relationship, but they're famously protective of their best friend. Fuck.

John leans in his seat to smooch both of them on the cheek. It immediately calms Hercules down, but Lafayette is still pretending not to buy it. God, they have such a good dynamic. Alex feels like he's intruding. "Momcules! Lafdaddy! I missed you two so much!"

"What the hell did you get yourself into this time?" Mulligan asks. He either doesn't see Alex or is choosing to ignore him. Either way, it's annoying.

"Some dumb shit," John admits, crossing his arms and looking out the window. "I didn't want to bother you guys. And, like, I'm almost finished dealing with it, and everything is cool. I'm sorry for worrying you."

"We're your best friends, hon. Your dumb shit is our dumb shit. Your problems are our problems." Lafayette twists around in their seat, staring Alex straight in the eyes. Are they trying to see into his soul? Is it an intimidation technique? Either way, he can't look away. Everything about Lafayette is completely captivating, simple things glamorous. "Instead of coming to us, you come to-"

"Some druggie you haven't talked to since you were in diapers," Mulligan grunts.

"I'm his friend too!" Earlier, he would have agreed with both of them, but Alex feels like he's gotten closer to John, and is more than the gifted kid burnout tragic story. Like he's actually part of his life. "I'm mostly clean, by the way. Just throwing that out there." Normally, meeting celebrities isn't a big deal for Alex, because he used to be one. But both of them are so larger than life, untouchable. Being called a druggie by one of your inspirations and crushes is the oddest thing.

"Calm your shit, Herc," John says, sharply. "I fucked up but don't blame this on Alex. I needed some time off, okay, and even though I probably didn't go about it in the best way, I got it, and I feel better. Can we focus on the recovery, and not who I went to for it?"

"I don't suppose we get to know the rest of the story, do we?"

"Not right now. I don't want to think about it. Let's just get wrecked."

Alex notices Lafayette give Mulligan a concerned look. When he's out with people, they try to take his situation into account - they avoid language like that, and though Alex wishes he could really get wrecked, he doesn't really care when other people do it. They could be concerned for John or questioning Alex's motives. Really, everyone, in general, is always questioning Alex's motives. He's a very morally grey person.

Mulligan slams the breaks (He completely ignore's Lafayette's shouts of protest, it seems like a routine with them. It's kind of cute.) in front of a large building. Alex recognizes it immediately - it's an apartment complex for the up and coming, not quite known well enough to have a mansion, but famous enough to be regularly recognized on the streets. God, Alex hasn't been here in forever. It's odd, to think that time is still passing, that someone else is probably living in the place he broke his first arm, called Martha his mom the first time, and sleep in the room he masturbated in for the first time. (All great childhood memories.)

He doesn't realize that the others have gotten out of the car until Lafayette knocks on his window, a slightly amused smile on their face. Quickly, he hops out of the car. The two of them trail slightly behind John and Mulligan, who are laughing and running around like children. The silence is thick, and he's almost a hundred percent sure Lafayette's humming is trying to make themselves seem non-threatening, and it's having the opposite effect. His stomach is churning at the thought that if either of these two people doesn't like him, John could stop talking to him right after they've started to repair their relationship if he says one thing wrong. John might say that Alex means the world to him, but Lafayette and Mulligan are his universes.

"You, John, and Mulligan... you were almost a thing, weren't you?" It's an awful way to start a conversation, too personal, prodding. But Alex can't help himself. The way the three of them act together is so far from friendly.

Lafayette doesn't seem phased by the question, but still raises their eyebrows slightly, teasing, "You jealous?"

"No - Me and John aren't - we don't - "

"Shit, man, your ears can get really red." Lafayette laughs, draping an arm around him, a nice gesture move for someone who was looking at Alex like he's human garbage a couple of minutes ago. "Yes, we were almost a thing. John... has a lot of shit going on. Thinking about someone who probably doesn't give a shit about him. Even when - if - he finds someone, we will always be almost a thing. We will always be the people he goes to first. And if someone hurts him-"

"It's not like that, I swear, and I care about John, I've always tried to help him out, and I was only thinking about him, well, mostly, when I - "

"You're very self-centered. Always thinking someone is talking about you. It's kind of cute." Lafayette comments, casually, as if they aren't deliberately insulting and threatening him. "I care about Johnny a lot. He's one of the most important people in my life. I want the best for him. I like you, I really do. I think you're good for each other. Just, take my warning. You're lucky I got to you first, and not Herc. He isn't as sweet as I am."

With a wink, Lafayette scurries up to the other two, picking up John and twirling him around, looking Alex directly in the eye. He can't move for a second. He feels even more unsure about their relationship. Other people think they're a good fit? Why does it seem like everyone is preparing him for something that probably isn't going to happen?

Normally Alex doesn't listen to gossip, but, in this situation, it's true. Lafayette is a petty bitch. God, he wants to know everything about this amazing person.

 

 

~~~

 

 

John is in the middle of Hercules and Lafayette, blunt in one hand, a tiny dog in the other, dancing horribly to Britney Spears when Alex realizes he doesn't want to fuck him. Well, that's a lie, he wants him to rearrange his guts, but it's more than that. He wants to spend every moment with him, know every single thing. He wants to unravel the universe that is John Laurens, breathe in his stardust, bathe in his cosmos.

It's fucking terrifying, because, sure, he had a thing with Eliza, and, more recently, Burr, but it's never been like this before. The idea of fucking this up makes him want to drown in his own blood. He's been trapped in an endless, emotionless cycle of fucking, and John's put it to a stop. And, God, he's been stuck for so many years that he doesn't know who he is without it.

 

 

~~~

 

 

It's six in the morning and Alex is on the floor, clutching a bottle of whiskey and thinking about how fucked over he is. He has no way to release stress. God, he wishes Burr or Eliza were here. They're good at making decisions. They'd make sure that he wouldn't make John think less of him.

"Lafayette's a sweetheart, but they're a little overprotective. I'm sorry if they scared you a bit. They have mostly good things to say about you, I promise."

Alex's movements and thought process are slow. He almost doesn't register John plopping down next to him, a joint hanging out of the corner of his mouth. God, he looks beautiful, eyes red, lips stained with wine, a smile overtaking his entire face, showing off the gap between his teeth.

The gap between his teeth -

The gap between his teeth -

How had he not noticed it before? John's saying something, but Alex can't hear. The world is spinning but the on is the gap between John's teeth.

Without thinking about it, he's lunging forward, planting his lips in John's the kiss is quick, messy, and nothing like Alex imagined. John reeks of weed, alcohol, and chocolate, but it's the most amazing thing he's ever smelled. He wants to put this moment in a bottle, the world around them quiet, just Alex, the gap between John's teeth, and the moonlight fading away.

It all comes to an end when he twists around, hurls on the floor, and passes out.

 

~~~

 

Alex wakes up, head pounding. He wants nothing more than the floor to swallow him whole. He's majorly fucked up. Lafayette and Burr were right to warn him.

"How drunk were you?"

Alex's head snaps up and he looks into John's eyes, flickering over him. "Pretty fucking drunk. But I wanted to kiss you. When I was sober. Which is never, really, because the only time I want to be alive is when I'm drunk or high or fucking, but being sober is better than you. I fuck everything up, and I probably fucked this up-"

"Are you free this Friday?"

"I... I'll make sure I am."

**Author's Note:**

> you got to the end of my terrible writing!! thank you, and also note that i crave validation
> 
> IF YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA FOR THE TITLE PLEASE SHARE IT
> 
> my tumblr is devilstit. hmu, comrade


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